A Russian Bullet
by lady-adonis
Summary: Pavlina Obukhov is the leader of a pernicious cult of which is believed to be bound to evanesce of twenty people in Russia. Arthur, a mechanic, is to eradicate the leader, but finds himself on the inside when his lover disappears in the same area.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Inception. Passing out reviews is common courtesy.**

**A/N: Short beginning, but it's only a prelude.**

The last murder took place in April. The body was found on the first of May. It was a young woman who had gone on a trip with her fiance. Upon arriving at the hotel, she had an argument with her boyfriend and stormed out. No one saw her again after that. Her name was Rivera and she was an American college student. There was no awareness of her disappearance so no one could prevent her death.

The last disappearance took place one week ago. The body has not been found yet. Everyone's begging that the body still has a beating heart. The victim was a young woman who had gone a business call to Moscow, with no one to accompany her. She arrived at her hotel, attended her meeting, but on her way back to her hotel before her plane take off, she was grabbed. The person who grabbed her wore baggy clothes and a painted face. She was pulled into a car and never seen again. Her name was Ariadne and she was an American architect. There is plenty of awareness of her disappearance, and he _will _prevent her death.

There are up to seventeen members of Bullet, a demented cult that hides underground so well, that no one can keep up with their tracks as they are covered so well. There is no doubt in his mind that he could take them all without batting an eyelash.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Inception. Passing out reviews is common courtesy.**

A bullet left him bleeding, visiting the relative of death on the street of a the busy city of Tokyo. As its phenomenal speed, the bullet pieced his shoulder, the pressure knocking him off balance. He dropped to his knees , feeling the grating sensation of the pavement leaving his shins badly scraped. Bringing up a shaking hand to his shoulder, he gently placed it over the would as he reached into the holster over his waist, pulled out a pistols, and fired at his assailant.

The man in the shadows went down. It was night, but it was not dark. The lit buildings and billboards left the streets illuminated enough, but Arthur's foe was hidden in the crevices of alleyways. Arthur hadn't seen him, but he heard his heavy body fall limp onto the wet ground. Breathing heavily, Arthur aggresively and hurriedly pulled himself up to his feet, limping down the pavement to safe ground.

* * *

><p>He pushed his body against the door opening it pugnaciously, his left hand busy blocking off the pain in his shoulder and his right hand limp to the pain.<p>

As he dragged his feet inside, he was careful to shut the door and lock it behind him. The sound of his Calvin Klein shoes schlepping against the concrete floor alerted the warehouse's only tenant.

Eames was at his feet in a second, fast walking to another part of the building where a spreadsheet table was set out. He cleared everything off and reached for a small suitcase full of useful tools.

Arthur groaned as he pulled himself on the table. He ripped off his suit jacket and his shirt. Eames came closer, holding a few pads and rubbing alcohol.

"Where's Ariadne?" The Point asked, breathing heavier than usual.

Eames deliberately dodged Arthur's eyes, turning his attention to the wound. "Pardon?"

"She's not back yet?" Arthur's heartbeat accelerated and he prepared to get up again, but Eames pulled him back.

"Calm down, darling, she just stepped out for a minute. If you'd taken the primal route, you'd have seen her."

"Well, I wasn't really for having anyone calling out the place due to suspicious activity!" Arthur paused. "Where were you?"

"Isamu's muscle wasn't in the greatest mood after having had missed a vital break in neuroactivity."

Arthur leaned forward. "So, you _did_ get it?"

"Get it? If that isn't the understatement of the century..."

"Put that away; I don't trust you with sharp objects," Arthur said, referring to the bullet wound kit. "I'll wait for Ariadne."

"You could bleed out-"

"Better that than an infection due to operating with a needle that wasn't properly sanitized."

"Fair enough," Eames sat back. "Stay conscious."

"What about Ariadne?"

"She was very convincing; achieved her stats as well," Eames said, clearly impressed. "It wasn't a bad idea to let her out into the field on her own."

"She's making me regret it already."

"It seems like she and I are the only ones who've gotten our piece without too much trouble," Eames paused, contemplating. "Aside from the slight head trauma on my apart; I assume it'll all pass in the morning. What happened with you?"

"Ran into some trouble," Arthur sighed lightly. "My proprietor was less than thrilled when I mentioned the dirt. Instead of groveling and giving me my cash, he thought it'd be better to send heat out on me. Once Ariadne gets here, we have to get on the red eye out of here."

At that moment, the door slammed closed and Ariadne stepped inside carrying a brown paper bag. Her eyes darkened when she saw Arthur sitting on her planning table, bleeding profusely. She took a deep breath, walked forward and handed the bag to Eames.

"Sushi," she said. "And wine. I figured for a celebration, but I guess we don't have a dynamic equilibrium of vivacity."

She took off her jacket, pulled up a stool, and began operation on Arthur's shoulder.

* * *

><p>"Now, we separate, but I need to keep in touch with the both of you," Arthur directed in a low whisper as he walked behind both Ariadne and Eames who were walking in a way that made them appear to be simply strangers headed in the same direction. "If anyone asks, you don't know where I've gone, the last you've heard is that I went to Paraguay. Eames, you say the last you heard I went to Chicago."<p>

"Why different stories?" Ariadne asked.

"It arouses suspicion of my whereabouts, but clears both your names."

"It'll seem like he lied to us; which they won't be able to use to their avail." Eames explained quietly.

"Where _are _you going?"

"I can't tell you. I'll keep in touch. Stay out of major cities."

With that, Arthur disappeared in the crowd.


End file.
